Page 13

It was him.

Lord Peregrine.

“Miss Valentine, may I present Lord Peregrine,” the lady said as calmly as if pigs flew by her windows all the time.

“I’m honored to meet you,” Bea breathed, sinking into a curtsy before Regina’s fiancé. The most handsome man in the room.

Actually, in all of London.

Not only that, but Lord Peregrine was the man whom she couldn’t stop thinking about in inappropriate ways. Bea managed an uncertain smile as he plucked up her dance card and scrawled his name—on the supper dance!

“Won’t you dance that with Lady Regina?” she asked, before thinking.

Lady Alcon tittered. “What a question, Beatrice! He wouldn’t ask you unless he were free. I expect that dear Lady Regina asked him to accompany you. She is an extraordinarily kind girl. A leader in polite society at her age!”

“She did,” Lord Peregrine confirmed, flashing Bea a look from his black eyes.

It wasn’t exactly an admiring look.

Bea felt herself turning the precise color of claret.

Before she could respond, another man stepped forward, and Lord Peregrine gave ground, walking off without another word.

This man was her father’s height, whicxh is to say, just right: his head only slightly taller than hers. He had a thick head of dark hair, sturdy shoulders, and eyes that twinkled with laughter.

Bea assumed that he was Robert de Lacy Evans’s friend—the one whom his mother had mentioned—but it turned out that Lord Argyle didn’t know Mr. de Lacy Evans at all. A bit after that, Mr. de Lacy Evans’s aforementioned friend, Peter Caron, did show up, jostling his way into the crowd.

By then, Bea was cautiously enjoying herself.

Lord Argyle was good-naturedly elbowing Mr. Caron and trying to get hold of her dance card, while Mr. de Lacy Evans was still claiming he wanted to put down his name twice.

She found herself laughing at their silliness. It was like being at home in the local assemblies, where she knew all the fellows and liked them. Back in Cheshire, boys regularly fell in love with her, only to be told by her father that Bea was destined for better than a farmer’s son; she would be going to London for a Season.

She’d never thought of herself as distasteful until she came to London.

A fourth man miraculously joined the first three.

They stood around her like a forest of tall trees. Like a fence, really. No one could see her, and that made Bea feel like herself. She started laughing and talking to them the way she talked to the boys at home.

“You see,” Lady Alcon hissed. “Lady Regina’s kindness has paid off. We cannot thank her enough. You owe her everything, Beatrice!”

CHAPTER SIX

ALMACK’S ASSEMBLY HALL

Fiennes Lawrence Peregrine was bored.

It wasn’t a new experience, but it seemed acutely painful this evening. He considered Almack’s to be the most tedious dancehall in London and only attended on the request—or rather, the demand—of his fiancée. Wherever he looked in the ballroom, he found girls in pale dresses watching him with hungry eyes.

They weren’t watching him: they saw Fiennes as an embodiment of his father’s wealth, a hunk of gold bullion disguised as a man. He discovered he was scowling and forced himself to put on a bland expression. He just had to get through the next month, marry Lady Regina, and then he would be free.

Free? Ridiculous to say that about marriage, but it was a fact. In his life, his father had asked him for only one thing: that he marry into the nobility. Fiennes didn’t like Regina overly much, but that didn’t matter. His own parents rarely spent time together, which likely explained his lack of siblings.

Fiennes strolled through eddies of gentlefolk, wondering vaguely why he didn’t see his fiancée anywhere. Regina had insisted that he meet her at Almack’s, and moreover, had ordered him to ask her friend for the supper dance.

He had complied, though it occurred to him now that he’d better make it clear to Regina that he wouldn’t attend lackluster events like this in the future.

It wasn’t until he was bowing before Miss Valentine as the supper dance began that Fiennes had thought to question Regina’s command. He was used to blushing debutantes, but Beatrice Valentine wasn’t his fiancée’s usual cup of tea. Regina’s friends were scrawny, pert girls with glistening smiles and avid eyes.